


In His Eyes, All the Sadness of the World

by Phantom_Serenity



Category: Le Fantôme de l'Opéra | Phantom of the Opera - Gaston Leroux
Genre: Eventual Smut, F/M, Fluffy, Romance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-12-26
Updated: 2016-05-25
Packaged: 2018-01-06 06:14:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 11
Words: 13,336
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1103374
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Phantom_Serenity/pseuds/Phantom_Serenity
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Starts after the catastrophe of the chandelier. What if Christine faced her fears? Christine's thoughts about her actions. Can she make things right with Erik? Will he still make her pay? Will turn slightly A/U Blends the book and the play.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

The scream that ripped from my throat woke me. The nightmare again, the same nightmare for weeks has been keeping me up nights. As I lie shaking in my small bed in the dormitories, looking out of the window at the moonlight, I wonder if I will ever again have a night’s peace. 

I keep reliving that night in the depths of the Opera House. My joyous triumph on stage, Raoul’s surprising appearance in the dressing room, the journey through the mirror, the ecstasy that I felt at hearing my Angel sing those enchanting lyrics… and then, the horror as I woke and shattered the illusion by tearing the mask from Erik’s face. Why, why did I do that? Why couldn’t my curiosity have just left me alone? Instead, I trapped myself in a nightmare from which there is no waking. I showed no gratitude, only impertinence and shameful fear toward the Ang- man who had inspired my voice, who had brought me to my dream. I threw every bit of care and kindness that he had shown me back at him, revealing his deepest secret and causing what was probably his greatest fear to come true.

My shaking gets worse as I beat myself mentally, berating the frightened child in me who caused that reaction to Erik. Finally I realize I will sleep no more tonight. Grasping my robe, I slip it on, tiptoeing through the room so as not to awaken the other girls. Of course, they only have pleasant dreams as they slumber. No nightmares of scarred men professing love haunt their sleeping minds.

As I make my way through the Opera House, the quiet aura should calm me. But it only amplifies my fears and sorrow. I know he roams here still, but I have not heard my Ang- Erik’s voice in so long. I ache to hear him sing to me. I want to tell him how sorry I am, how much I regret treating him that way. I continue without a real purpose, finally coming to the stage. I sit, gazing out across the darkened stage and toward the empty seats. Most everyone wonders why I seem to have lost the voice that amazed them so much. How can I tell them that the one who inspired me is also the one who frightens me and keeps me from becoming a grand diva once again? While I sing and perform, it lacks the luster, the purity that was given to me by Erik. I’m just a shell of what I could have been.

I think again about that night that haunts me. But a change occurs as I sit and remember. Instead of feeling again all the fear and horror, a different feeling comes over me. I remember his pleadings, the shame that seemed to pour out of him. I remember his pain, his eyes as he spoke quietly of hoping that I could one day love him. Looking at him, it was as if, instead of Pandora releasing all the evils into the world, he held in his eyes all the sadness of the world. And I, by my actions, released his pain and sorrow onto the world.

Oh God, what have I done?

I feel scared still, but tired, and I wonder if I could now try sleeping, at least for a few more hours. As I stand up, my eyes widen. Did I really hear something? Or am I just imagining it? I whirl around trying to pinpoint what it was I heard. But silence and darkness surrounds me, and it hits me exactly how much I’ve been affected by the events of late. Now I’m imagining the Opera Ghost is back, even though I know he’s only a man. I shake my head slowly, laughing at myself and my folly. But then I hear it again:

“Christine, Christine…”


	2. Chapter 2

My hand flies to my mouth to stifle a gasp. Is he really here for me? Is my exile at an end? Or is he merely here to toy with my fraying mental state before taking my soul? I decide to try and make my way back to my room, hoping that I’m really just imagining this, or that if not, then maybe Erik will leave me be if I leave the stage. Suddenly I hear a whisper close to my ear “I’m here, the Phantom of the Opera…” and it makes me jump. I bump into the ropes for working the curtains, and the feeling causes a faint shriek to escape from my lips. 

I shouldn’t let him do this to me. He’s doing this on purpose; I know him and his tricks. But it doesn’t stop a mixture of fear and joy from welling up inside me. Joy? Yes, even as I fear him and his anger, I have missed him. I feel like these weeks without him have crushed me more than the fear, the strange “accidents” that occur. I wish to make things right. That desire impels me to turn, and walk back toward the stage. I stand there for a moment, and I can feel him watching me from somewhere, perhaps his box. I take a deep breath, and softly begin singing. 

Angel of music, guide and guardian   
Grant to me your glory   
Angel of music, hide no longer   
Secret and strange Angel

 

I wait for a long moment, hoping for some sign from him, something to let me know if I’ve touched his wounded heart and soul at all. Then I hear him softly calling my name “Christine, Christine” and this time a small smile comes to my face. I decide to reach out again with the one thing I have to give him: my voice.

 

Angel, my soul was weak,   
Forgive me.   
Enter at last, Master.

 

My voice echoes in the stillness of the theater, and I stand there, hoping for some signal from him. Again I hear his soft whispers: “I’m here…” and I whirl around, searching for him. Even just a glimpse of his golden eyes would comfort me at this point. But of course, he keeps himself well hidden. I wonder, is he waiting to see if I stay or run again? Perhaps he’s protecting his heart from me. I can’t blame him for that. The first time I hear his voice again, what do I do? I try to run, to hide, probably the worst reaction I could have. My mind made up, I face the front of the stage again and resolutely sit down on the cold hard floor. 

I wonder if I’m imagining the soft chuckles I’m hearing, or if he’s really amused by my actions. I guess amusement is better than anger. I know he’s waiting, watching to see if I’m going to stay, or if childish fears will get the best of me. But finally I hear him softly whisper “Have you forgotten your Angel?” and I smile again. Finally, he has reached out to me. Perhaps all is not lost. I close my eyes and keep the smile on my face, hoping he approaches soon.

 

He doesn’t disappoint me. My Angel never disappoints me. I know he wants me to know he’s approaching since I hear the faint whisper of his cape moving as he walks. This means his anger has at least somewhat subsided. If he wished to punish, I wouldn’t hear him approach till he had the Punjab lasso around my neck. I open my eyes and let him come to me. He is right next to me, and I feel the familiar soothing that his presence used to bring me. He reaches out with one hand as if to touch my cheek, but he holds himself back. I look at him and see hesitancy in his eyes that has never been there before. My lips part as I begin to tell him how sorry I am, how I wish to make things right, but he cuts me off. “We won’t speak here. Come with me, Christine.”

 

Erik takes my hand and begins leading me away from the stage. I force down any feeling of fear. I don’t want him to sense anything but joy in seeing him again. He doesn’t look at me as we head down, and I begin to worry. Why is he not saying anything? Am I still to be punished? What will happen between us?


	3. Chapter 3

We make our way to Erik’s home by a different route than before. He avoids the passage through the mirror, as if to avoid the memory of the last time we were together. I feel his grip on my hand tighten, ensuring I stay close behind him. He seems to think I would dare try to break away in this darkness. But I suppose I still haven’t given him many reasons to trust me. I’m going to have to repair all the damage I have done to his heart, his trust, and our… friendship. I want us to be friends again, teacher and student again. But can I repair all that without causing him to renew his declarations of love?

I stumble over something in the dark and Erik whirls around to catch me almost as if by instinct. He holds me close for a moment, and I revel in the feeling. I wonder if he feels the same joy, but suddenly he pushes me away, forcing me to stand on my own. He throws a glare at me, but I see underneath it pain and hesitancy. He grabs my hand again and continues our course in silence. I somehow don’t mind the silence. It gives me time to think about what he isn’t saying. I’m seeing so much more to him now. Before I was content to simply see him as my Angel to be inspired by, then to view him as a monster and thing to be feared. But now I see the man, someone who has been denied so much in life. And the pain and hesitating I see shows that he wants to believe in me as I used to believe in him. But he’s seen too much to think it could come true.

Finally we arrive at his home. Candles are lit all over, and he obviously made a fire ready to warm the cold air of the cavern. Erik takes my hand and helps me out of the boat, and I smile to show my appreciation of it all. But his face, well what I can see of his face, stays passive, almost as unmoving as the cold mask he wears. A slight warmth appears in his eyes though, and I count it as a victory. He escorts me to a chair close by the fire and makes me sit. As I try to catch his gaze, he turns quickly and removes his cape and hat. I realize that the intimacy of being in his home together is probably bringing everything that has occurred between us come rushing back. I need to try and set things right. 

“Erik,” I speak softly, hoping that he hears only tenderness and friendship in my voice, “Erik, won’t you look at me?” He turns back toward me after a few moments, and I want to weep when I see tears in his eyes. “How could I dare look at you, Christine?” he asks tremulously. “Why would you want to look at me?” he says even more softly. I rise from the chair, reaching out my hands as I walk closer to him. “Erik, please, come sit closer to the fire where it’s warmer, with me.” I try to take hold of his gloved hand, but he moves back a step, like a child afraid of punishment. Thinking of him in that light softens my heart even more, and I reach out again and firmly grasp his hand, pulling him back toward the fireplace and the chair. Instead of sitting in the chair myself as I had before, I make him sit and I kneel, settling myself in a comfortable position close to his feet. 

He turns his face toward the fire, refusing still to look at me. I take his hand and begin to remove his gloves. Erik looks down at me sharply, and I realize that I’ve done something almost impossible: I’ve surprised the former Opera Ghost. I smile up at him softly and place the gloves on my lap. Then I do something rather surprising to us both. I take one of his hands and bring it up to my face, forcing him to cradle my cheek gently. He stiffens, but almost immediately relaxes and I close my eyes as we both sigh softly. I’m sighing because I feel like at last, we have bridged the gap somewhat. Perhaps he’s simply enjoying human contact. 

I open my eyes and see him gazing down at me, and it’s almost like my Angel has returned to me. I decided that I have to finish righting things. I whisper to him “Oh Erik, can you ever forgive me?” His gaze softens even more and he too whispers “Oh Christine, all you had to do was ask me. I would do anything for you.” But he turns away, showing that, although he may forgive me, he still feels hurt and ashamed in front of me. I can’t let this continue. I reach up and use the tips of my fingers to touch his jaw and turn his face to me, careful to avoid touching anywhere near the mask. I ask again “Erik, please, will you forgive me? Can you ever trust me again?”

Erik’s jaw tightens and he rises from the chair suddenly. He paces in front of the fire, grumbling and huffing to himself. I want to say something, but I hesitate, thinking that I might just make it worse. Then he stops, turning toward me with those golden eyes blazing. I know he’s expecting me to cower in fear again, so I sit still, not moving. He moves toward me as if he’s daring me to run. But I stand my ground, or sit my ground, I guess. He glowers at me before turning away to go sit and pour out his emotions in his music. As I listen, I realize that the music he’s playing has changed. At first, it was the tempestuous organ pounding that woke me the first night. But now it’s changed, flowing first to a slow and seductive tone that fills me with desires I had never known to a soft and lyrical song that caresses my heart and soul. I realize this is the same song that he sang to me that fateful night. I realize that this is an opportunity to right things between us, to show how much he means to me. 

I stand and move over to stand by the instrument, knowing that he’s watching me warily even as he continues playing. Taking a deep breath, I let the notes wash over me, sweeping me up into pure ecstasy like I felt that night as I begin remembering the words. I’m amazed at the purity and emotion in my voice as I sing:

Softly, deftly, music shall caress you   
Hear it, feel it secretly possess you  
Open up your mind, let your fantasies unwind  
In this darkness that you know you cannot fight   
The darkness of the music of the night

Erik looks at me, watching me intently as I sing. He keeps playing, which lets me know that at least he isn’t angry. He’s intrigued, curious as to my feelings and thoughts. He brings the song to a finish, and I’m surprised that he joins me in the last lyrics of the song:

 

You alone can make my song take flight   
Help me make the music of the night 

 

Suddenly Erik leaps up from the instrument and grabs my arm. I gasp and look up at him, and I’m shocked to see his eyes gleaming with… affection? Is that what I’m seeing? Is that warmth and love I see in his eyes? As I’m questioning all this, he shocks me by what he does next.


	4. Chapter 4

Suddenly Erik leaps up from the instrument and grabs my arm. I gasp and look up at him, and I’m shocked to see his eyes gleaming with… affection? Is that what I’m seeing? Is that warmth and love I see in his eyes? As I’m questioning all this, he shocks me by what he does next. Erik is kneeling before me, his mask in his hand. I restrain myself from gasping in shock. I know he’s expecting that reaction from me, and I don’t want to ruin the fragile trust I’ve been trying to rebuild. His pleading eyes touch my heart. ‘My poor unhappy Erik’ I think to myself.

I kneel in front of him, and take the mask from him. I gently set it aside, and I even surprise myself by my next action. I take one hand and caress his scarred face. He closes his eyes as if to savor the sensation. I see a few tears spill from his eyes, and it causes tears to fall down my face in response. I finally speak, and all I can say is repeating my earlier thought “Poor, unhappy Erik!” He rubs his face against my hand and murmurs “Christine, Christine”, and my heart soars as I see his defenses crumbling. 

I continue to touch his face, scooting closer to him. He leans toward me, and takes my other hand, placing kisses upon it. I close my eyes and smile, feeling happiness course through my mind and heart. He looks up at me, seeing my smile, and he smiles back. I take a deep breath and repeat the words we sang before:

You alone can make my song take flight   
Help me make the music of the night 

Erik’s smile grows as her hears my words. He rises and helps me stand. Then he gently kisses my hand and says “I’ll take you back up now. It’s late, and you need your rest.” 

I’m surprised by this. My mouth opens and closes several times before I finally manage to speak. “Erik, I can’t sleep up there.” His eyes widen, and he waits for me to continue. I take a deep breath and ask “May I please stay here with you, for tonight?” He stares at me, as if he thinks I’m toying with him. I smile hopefully at him, waiting for his reply. Finally, a small smile ghosts across his face and he says “Yes, of course my dear.” He leads me to my room and kisses my hand softly. “Goodnight, my angel” he whispers. I smile at his words and say “Goodnight, my Erik.” 

I change and lay in the warm bed. I fall asleep quickly, with no unpleasant dreams for once. Only happy thoughts shine through the haze of sleep.

I wake up slowly, disoriented for a moment. Then I remember what took place the night before and I smile as I see I’m in my room down in Erik’s home. I hear faintly Erik playing music, and I quickly find my robe to go see him. When I walk down to where he’s playing, he looks up and sees me, and his eyes light up behind his mask. I’m disappointed to see the mask on again, but decide to address that later. “I thought that it all had been a dream.” He murmurs as he rises and takes my hand. I shake my head and say “No, not a dream, Erik, I’m really here.” He leads me to his chair and as I sit he asks “Shall I make you some tea?” I nod, and watch him scurry off.

As we sip our tea, I notice him watching me. I wonder what he’s thinking. I hope I’ve repaired the damage to our relationship. I decide to try another avenue to continue repairing things. I ask softly “Erik, could we… would you mind if we had a singing lesson? I would really like to improve.” He leans his head to one side and says “Christine, I would truly enjoy that.” 

After our lesson, I realize that I should head back upstairs. The realization causes my heart to drop a bit. I don’t want to return. It hits me suddenly that I want to stay here. What waits for me above are questions and curious stares and… Raoul. He’s going to wonder where I’ve been all this time. And he won’t want me to return. He’ll make me stay; he won’t allow me to return to see Erik. I don’t want to go back. He sees my face and asks “Christine, what’s wrong?” I swallow and stutter a bit, then finally say “I was just wondering whether I should return upstairs.” He looks at me, and it seems that he’s weighing his next words carefully. Finally, while looking down at our feet, he whispers “Do you want to return?”

I know what he’s asking. He’s asking if I’m trying to get back to Raoul, if I want to leave him. He’s trying to establish how our relationship stands. He’s afraid I won’t return, that this is it for us. He repeats “Do you want to return, Christine?” I look at him and shake my head, a few tears forming and keeping me from speaking. Erik takes one gloved hand and brings it to my cheek, wiping away a tear as he says “Christine, do you wish to stay here with me?”

Again I can’t make my voice work; the words catch in my throat and come out as a gentle sob as I nod my head. I throw my arms around his neck and finally manage to whisper “Yes, Erik, I want to stay.” I hear him gasp and I look at him. His eyes are wide and his mouth opens and closes. I laugh mentally as I realize that for the first time, he’s at a loss as to what say or do. But that changes very quickly. He takes a deep breath as if to steel himself for his next action. Then he rubs his thumb across my cheek and sings out “Christine, I love you.”

Then he kisses me.


	5. Chapter 5

He kisses me.

Erik’s deformed lips press against mine, and I’m surprised at the warm touch. His hands are always so cold I would have thought his lips would share that quality. His arm wraps around me, and although his grasp is rough and abrupt, I feel myself relaxing. Is this what I’ve been waiting for all this time? Without really thinking about it, I bring one hand up to his cheek and remove the mask. He inhales and pulls back, but I assume he sees in my eyes no revulsion or horror. I stroke his cheek gently, but I’m too shy to initiate another kiss. He must realize this, because he smiles, not the smile of a friend, not the smile of a teacher for his pupil, but the assured confident smile of a lover.

Seeing that smile upon those lips that just filled me with joy makes me smile too. I understand that this is strange and new for him as well. Am I the only woman he’s ever kissed? Before I can ponder that any further, confidence shines in his eyes and he pulls me closer again and kisses me. This kiss is gentle, as if he’s already learning what to do. I continue caressing his face, because I want him to know that I know this is the real Erik in front of me. I want him to know this isn’t done out of fear or pity, but because I… I… I love him. God help me, I do love him. This is why my life has been shattered while he had abandoned me. This is why my heart leapt with joy when I heard him call my name. This is why I couldn’t leave last night.

Erik must have felt the shiver that ran through my body with this revelation, for he breaks away from the kiss and tries to catch my gaze. “Christine?” he whispers, looking for hope. I bring my other hand up to hold his face, hoping the touch can soothe him. Then I smile at him, and I begin to lay kisses all over his face. I taste salty tears that have begun to cascade down his face. I keep kissing him, wanting to make up for, not just my mistreatment of him but the entirety of mankind’s harshness toward him. Then I lean close to his ear. I’m so overcome with emotions that I don’t trust my voice, so I can only whisper “Erik, I love you.”

I can hear his ragged breaths stop when my words are heard. He slowly pulls back so he can look at me, study my face. I resolutely return his gaze, and I find my voice. I repeat the words to show him I meant it. “Erik, I love you.” Tears spill over down his face again, and he brings one hand to my face. His eyes question me, showing that he still can’t quite believe this has happened. Well neither can I. 

He brings his lips crashing down to mine again. Instead of the bashful kisses from before, these are filled with love and… passion. He pulls me close to his body and wraps me into his embrace again. Then gathering me up into his arms he walks to his chair beside the fire place, sitting down with me upon his lap. He continues kissing me, as if he fears I’ll disappear if he stops.

I hazily think of the warnings Madame Giry had given all of us chorus girls about proper behavior when with gentlemen. But I know that my Erik would never take advantage of me now, now that he knows my feelings. Before, when he felt he had to put an illusion forth to win me, he might have. But now we are both honest with each other. Now there’s no pretense, no second thoughts. We’ve both decided. 

As his kisses slow, and he seems to be making himself content with holding me, I take his hands and wrap them tighter around me. He smiles and asks “Are you afraid I’m going to let you go Christine?” My eyes widen as I see he’s teasing me. Erik made a joke! This kind, gentle, funny man is what I had always wanted in my life. I see that this is the man he could have become long ago had he felt love from anyone. I chuckle and say “Oh, I don’t think you would. But your kisses affect me so I may fall from your arms.” His grin grows and he leans in to whisper “I would never let you fall, my dear.” He kisses me once more, and then his face changes as he speaks. “My dear, I’m sure Madame Giry is worried about you. We should go above.” My face falls when he says this. He takes his hand and brings my face up to look me in the eye as he continues “You do not have to stay there. But I think it would be best if you let Giry and the managers know that you are safe. They do not trust me.”

I understand immediately what he’s saying. I need to let them know that they do not need to worry, or try to come “save” me. If he sent one of his notes, they would probably assume he’s holding me against my will. I nod slowly and ask “Will you come with me?” He shakes his head and responds “No, my dear, you should do this yourself. But I will meet you in your dressing room this evening to bring you back.” He hesitates a moment, then continues “If you wish to come back with me tonight, that is.”

I smile at his words. He’s trying so hard to give me a choice, to make sure this is truly what I want. How things have changed. Is it any wonder that I love him? I take his hand and kiss it, saying “Of course I want to come back tonight.” He beams at me, and I realize that, although I still know his face holds distortions that I wish for his sake weren’t there, he seems to me the most wonderful man. When he smiles at me, those mismatched eyes shining with love, I see him as beautiful.

We rise from the chair, and move slowly to leave, both of us reluctant to be apart. He takes me back above by the familiar route to my dressing room. He doesn’t come into the room though, but simply opens the passage for me. Erik kisses my hand and whispers “Be here at 7 o’clock. I will be waiting to take you home.” I nod my head, happy at hearing him use the word ‘home’. He quickly leaves, the passage shutting behind him. I walk over to the wardrobe, looking for something to put on before going to find Madame Giry. It wouldn’t do to appear in an unfamiliar dress in front of her. She knows all my dresses, and I don’t want to rouse her suspicions before I can explain things.

As I finish changing, I hear a knock at my door. I rush over, hoping it is Meg or Madam. My happiness fades as I open the door and I see Raoul standing there, a look of concern on his face.


	6. Chapter 6

I try to control my face to not show my annoyance at seeing Raoul there. I know he’s probably been waiting for me all day. His first words confirm that. “Christine, where have you been? We’ve all been worried! You shouldn’t wander away where we can’t find you!” he says, pacing around the room. Since his back is turned I allow myself the freedom to roll my eyes at his theatrics. I think I hear a soft chuckle from beyond the mirror, for my ears only. I try to control laughter at the thought of Erik watching this rant from the Vicomte, and barely let a smile show. Of course Raoul is not paying attention to this.

“Raoul, I must go and see the managers and Madame Giry. If what you say is true I should let them know I’m fine.” I say gently, trying to get him to leave. But he will have none of it. “Well, then, I will escort you to the managers’ office, mademoiselle.” He bows theatrically as he says this, and I hear Erik’s chuckle again. He must be feeling very confident if he can laugh at this. I back away from Raoul’s arm he’s offering to me and say firmly “Raoul, please, I wish to go by myself. I have other things I must speak with them about, and I need to go alone.” Raoul raises an eyebrow, and he seems to be ready to argue. I decide to not give him the opportunity, and I whisk out of the room. Fortunately, Meg comes past just then, so I grab her by them arm and say “Where is Madame? I need to find her!” Meg looks startled till she sees Raoul lean his head out of the dressing room and attempt to follow me. I give her a look meant to convey that I don’t want to be around him, and thankfully she understands. She takes my hand and replies “She’s waiting for me in the dormitories. Come, we’ll go to her there.”

Meg tries to badger me into telling her what is going on, but I tell her that she can be there when I speak to Madame. We find her quickly, and she hugs me tightly. “My child, I was worried! Where were you?” she asks sternly, but I hear as always the kindness and love she’s always shown me underneath the stern tone. I look down as I tell her “I have been with Erik, Madame.” Meg and Madame both gasp. They know exactly who I’m speaking of and Madame begins scolding me immediately. “Christine, what are you thinking? Have you gone mad? Why were you with him?” I hold up one hand as I speak “I will explain everything, I promise. Don’t be cross with me. I was upset last night; I was having nightmares and couldn’t sleep. So I went out to the stage. And Erik came to me; I sang for him again. He took me down to his home.” At Madame’s expression I shook my head and smiled as I continued “I told you before about my room he has for me, I stayed the night in there undisturbed. But before that I apologized to him, for everything. I needed to gain his forgiveness; I had to make things right. And then I asked to stay. I wanted him to know that I trust him, that I’m not afraid of him. We sang together again today and then he gave me the choice to come back or stay.” I have to take a deep breath before I continue my account. I study their expressions. Meg still seems shocked and horrified, but Madame appears as if she knows what I’m about to say. 

I sigh and continue “I realized I wish to stay with Erik. I realized I… I love him.” Meg gasps again, but Madame merely smiles gently, nodding at me to continue. I keep going, determined to get it all out. “I want to be with him. He needs me, and I care so much for him. I didn’t even want to come back here, but he insisted.” At this, Madame finally looks perplexed. It’s my turn to smile as I explain, “He wanted me to come and let you know I was safe, and to explain things to you and the managers. He knew otherwise everyone would be afraid. He knows how people view him. He’s coming back to take me home later.” Madame asked “When is he coming?” I look at her, puzzled, as I reply “Seven o’clock.” She raises an eyebrow, and in a tone that will take no arguing says “Well then, we will have to find you a proper dress and arrange for a priest.” At my wide eyed expression she smiles gently and caresses my head as she explains “We will have to get you properly married. No girl in my care will go off to a man without being wed.”

Married… That shocks me when I truly think about it. I love Erik, and of course our life together would be like husband and wife. But I hadn’t quite let that thought of marriage come into focus. I say rather breathlessly “Do you think Erik will consent to that? He’s so private, I don’t know if he will appreciate a stranger marrying us.” Immediately I hear him faintly speaking to us. “If Madame Giry can find a priest to marry us this night I wish for us to be wed. But I have the dress for the bride.” I smile at hearing him. Of course he would make sure to be nearby, to give me strength and help should I need it, but keeping himself hid till he’s needed. Meg turns pale at his voice, but I take her hand and reassure her. “He will not harm you. You’re my friend, and Madam’s daughter. Everything is fine.” She nods her head and makes an obvious attempt to calm herself.

Madame stands and says in a clear tone that Erik will be sure to hear “Then I will go arrange things with the priest. You girls wait here for me. When I come back, I will let the managers know that you have left the opera and do not intend to return. I will claim ‘recent events’ have made you reconsider a life on the stage.” When she spoke of ‘recent events’, Madame looked in the direction that Erik’s voice came from, and I giggle softly. Surprisingly, Erik also chuckles at this. Then I hear his voice come softly to me “I will leave the dress in your room. I will be there on time awaiting my wife.”

We were so wrapped up in the excitement of the moment none of us noticed the shadow of someone on the stairs, listening to the plans for my marriage to the Opera Ghost.


	7. Chapter 7

Meg accompanied me to my dressing room to help me pack my few belongings. It seems unreal to me that only moments ago we were discussing plans for me to be wed. As we begin, Meg hesitantly asks “Christine, do you really love him?” I smile at this timid question. “Yes, Meg, I really do. You know how miserable I’ve been lately. It’s because he has stayed away from me. I hurt him terribly, and he left me. And it’s been horrible without him.” I look away, overcome with my feelings and feeling a little embarrassed at my candor. I wonder briefly if Erik is overhearing this from behind the mirror or any of his hiding places up above. I hope he is. I don’t know if I can ever express these feelings to him, but maybe he’ll overhear me telling my friend these things, and he’ll understand.

We are almost finished when there is a sharp tap at the door. We look up as Raoul enters without even waiting for an answer. I’m shock by the impropriety of this, but I’m shocked even more by the hardened glare upon his face. He says sharply to Meg “Please leave us alone.” She looks at me, waiting to see if this is what I want. I nod briefly, and she leaves, looking back once to ensure this is my wish. She must see my confusion and irritation at Raoul’s brashness, for she nods subtly and walks out, leaving the door slightly ajar behind her. I stand up and ask “What’s the meaning of this, Raoul?” He scowls at me as he speaks. “I have been informed of your plans to leave. But if I hadn’t heard you speaking with Madame Giry, I wouldn’t quite have the full story, now would I?” He approaches me, and I shrink backwards as I see his rage simmering in his gaze. Even Erik at his worst was never like this. Oh Erik, are you here? Please don’t forsake me now.

Raoul begins pacing back and forth. “So, you’re packing your things and running off tonight to marry another man? After all we’ve been through? After all your words of affection?” My eyes widen as I realize he simply thinks I’ve been trifling with him. He doesn’t know that the Erik he heard spoken of is the “Opera Ghost” who others have been so terrified of. He just knows I have pledged to marry another man. That will make this a little easier and yet more difficult. God give me courage.

“Raoul, please,” I start to say. I know what I tell him will be a mixture of truth and misleading, and I fix an expression of coquetry and teasing on my face. “You must understand how things are for us chorus girls and even for great divas on the stage. It’s ungentlemanly of you to imply I was leading you on. I was simply giving you the attention I assumed all rich and powerful men want and expect.” I raise my head high as I say these things, drawing on all of my training for the stage. I must do things this way. It is the only way. Otherwise he would do everything in his power to take me away from Erik. I flounce toward my bag and start placing the last few items inside. “Besides, your family would never consent to anything more than a flirtation between us. I would never be accepted by them as your wife!” I say those last words with my head thrown back and a laugh, as if the very idea is amusing. I must have learned more from Carlotta than I thought. I shrug my shoulders and finish airily “Erik and I will be happy together. He has no family to mock and hate me. I can be myself. He and I are in love, truly in love. He doesn’t simply love the little girl he played the gallant for.” I give him a knowing look with these words, and Raoul looks down at his feet, proving that I have hit a nerve with that statement. It was more accurate than I suspected.

I hear what seem to be skirts rustling outside, and I’m relieved to see Madame Giry enter the room with Meg close behind. Darling Meg must have told her mother what was happening. Madame looks coolly at Raoul and asks “Christine, dear, are you almost ready? Your dress will be dropped off soon, and we must get you ready. Remember, Erik is coming for you at seven.” She raises an eyebrow. “Are you and the Vicomte finished?” I smile and say with a tone of finality “Yes, Raoul was just leaving. He was merely delivering his good wishes for my upcoming wedding.” Raoul paled, but I knew him well enough to know that, no matter how familiar and comfortable he may act when we were alone, he would never contradict a lady in front of others. He grabbed his hat, executed a quick curt bow toward the three of us, murmured an irritated “Goodbye, Mademoiselle Daae”, and walked out. 

Meg shut the door behind him, and Madame came quickly to my side. Before she could speak, however, the mirror swung open and revealed Erik holding an exquisite white gown over one arm. He handed it off to Madame and took my hand. “My dear, are you alright? I overheard how he was speaking to you. You were so brave darling. Did you really mean those wonderful words you said?” I smile, noticing that Madame and Meg are pretending to arrange things in my bags and appear as if they can’t hear us. I caress his face and whisper “Have I not told you enough how much I love you? Do you doubt me still?” He nuzzles my hand gently and whispers “I could never tire of hearing those words. But they are still so new to me that sometimes I’m afraid I’m simply dreaming.” He kisses my hand and takes a step back. “Now, my darling bride,” he says a little louder, signaling to Madame and Meg they can stop pretending, “I will leave you to get dressed. I must prepare as well. May I return for you in one hour?” He says this with a questioning glance toward Madame, silently asking not just her permission as my guardian but also inquiring if she has arranged the priest. She nods with a smile, and I speak “Yes, I will be ready in one hour for you, my love.” He kisses my hand and says “One hour, then, and we shall leave to be married.” He leaves through the passage with one last smile. I turn toward Madame and Meg, smiling as I do. Madame takes my hand, and then hugs me quickly before saying “Come, dear girl, let’s get the bride ready.”


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I decided to give you guys a little treat for this chapter. We’ve been experiencing Christine’s POV all this time, how about an Erik POV chapter? Well, I hope you guys said yes to that, because that’s what you’re getting.

Erik’s POV

I return to my home below the Opera House, trembling with happiness and a small hint of fear. Can my dream really be coming true this very evening? I smile at the memory of my darling Christine defending our love and plans to that foolish, insolent boy. She sounded so sure, so proud of our love. I do not know what I have done to be worthy of her. Perhaps one day I truly will be worthy of her love. 

As I dress for the ceremony, my hands shake nervously. Christine doesn’t know that I have made arrangements for us to live in a real home, not a cold damp hole underground. I look around me, smirking a bit. Of course, I will have to return for a few things, but most everything here can be replaced, yes, should be replaced. These things have only sorrow and shame attached to them. Christine has brought such light into my world; I cannot have her surrounded by pain. I do hope she likes the home I have. I purchased it when I first realized my love for her. I’ve been slowly readying it for some time now. All it needs now is Christine to come into it as my bride. I sent word to Nadir to have it ready when the ceremony is done. The fires lit, candles everywhere, a well-stocked larder, everything to give her a comfortable home.

I know I’m ready rather early, but then I remember something and smile. Yes, I should do this for her tonight. I walk over to a box and open it. Here it is, the mask I created to make me appear as any other man. Christine should be able to appear before a man of God and be married without the minister fearing he is wedding her to the Devil himself. I place it carefully and check my appearance in the mirror. Yes, that will do nicely. But what am I to do later, when it is just the two of us… alone… as man and wife? Merde, I should have had a talk with Nadir about this. I don’t know how to be a lover. I know how to adore from afar. I know, well at least I think I know how to seduce with my voice, with my music. But how can I be a husband?

I put these thoughts from my head for the time being. I should focus on the wedding. Suddenly I realize a bride should have a proper bouquet. And this could be a proper test for this mask. I leave with a last glance at my old home. It no longer will be home for me. My home will be with Christine, my wife. As I leave out of the hidden door, the fading sunlight blinds me momentarily. I adjust my hat and then look around. People walk by me and they notice nothing. It works! I almost shout in triumph, but stop myself, realizing that would draw attention, something I’m not ready for. I settle for chuckling softly to myself as I find a flower shop. The girl inside is very polite and proper as she hears me ask for a bouquet of red roses. I emphasize that it’s a bridal bouquet, mainly to enjoy a bit of gloating that only I understand. The girl quickly arranges something pleasing and hands it over with a soft whisper of “Congratulations”.

I decide to surprise Christine by coming in the way any other man would. As I make my way through the hallways of the Opera House, I have to keep myself from darting around corners and hiding in shadows as I normally would. No, now I’m entering as Christine’s betrothed. Now anyone may see me. I even find it in me to nod in greeting to a few of the singers, doffing my hat to some of the ballet rats I pass. They whisper curiously about me, and the snippets I can make out let me know they all understand I’m Christine’s fiancé. This causes my chest to puff out with pride. I am Christine’s fiancé! I wish to shout it from the rooftops, but I know that now isn’t the time. 

I find Madame Giry and Meg waiting a few feet from Christine’s door. At first they simply bow their heads and murmur a greeting. The mask has them fooled! I chuckle and bow as I say “Madame Giry, Mademoiselle Giry, where is my bride?” Their eyes widen and Meg gasps as they hear my familiar voice coming from an unfamiliar face without the white mask they’ve come to know of. Madame’s eyes study me carefully and she whispers “Erik? Is that you? How can it be?” I throw my head back and laugh at her surprise. “I promise, one day I will explain. But why aren’t you inside helping Christine ready herself?”

Madame places her hand on my arm and replies kindly “She is ready. But she asked us to go and get ready, and leave her for a few minutes. I believe she wanted some quiet time to pray, and to ‘speak’ to her father. You understand.” I nod my head. Christine’s love for her father is still strong. I’m not surprised by this request at all. But what worries me is the fact that I cannot hear her. When she is ‘talking’ with her father, she does so out loud. But I don’t hear her melodic voice at all. After a few more minutes, my concern grows. I walk over and knock abruptly on the door. “Christine, my love,” I call out, “It’s Erik. It’s time to leave for the church darling.” But no sweet voice answers me, only silence.

I exchange looks of fear and horror with Madame and Meg, and I try the handle. The door swings open. I drop the roses as we see the empty room, Christine’s veil discarded on the floor.


	9. Chapter 9

Christine’s POV:

As I’m led into the carriage to wind our way through the streets of Paris, a few tears make their way down my cold cheeks. I wish I had never had that silly impulse to be alone before Erik came for me. If I hadn’t done that, I wouldn’t be here now. I would be with my Erik, about to be married.

After Madame and Meg had left my room, I was praying briefly. Suddenly, the door swung open, and Raoul was there, his eyes red and puffy. Before I could say anything, he grabbed me and murmured “Don’t scream, just come with me now. You’ll be safe, no one will find or harm you, I promise.” I was about to wrench myself away from him, but stopped when a tiny movement revealed a gun hidden under his coat. This was not the young man I had once knew and cared for. It was as if a thread of sanity and kindness had been cut, and now there was this panic, this roughness that was not his nature.

Without any further delay, he led me out of the Opera House. No one noticed my eyes filling with tears, or my frantic gazes, attempts to capture anyone’s attention. They all had heard I was going to be married, and here I was leaving with the man they all had assumed would marry me. It all seemed to be fine from their point of view. 

Raoul pushes me quickly into the carriage and raps on the roof, signaling the driver to leave. I manage to find the words at last. “Raoul, what is going on? Why did you come back?” He looks up at me, and I’m frightened by the look in his eyes. I start to believe he really has gone mad. He grasps my hands roughly and responds “Christine, I realized after I left that you would never say those things to me. Someone must be putting you up to this. You and I love each other! I have arranged for us to be married. Then we will get away; go north where no one can come between us. You must have been trying to do what you thought was best, but you must understand I love you! I need you!” His voice trembles at this last, and the tears come freely from my eyes. How can I make him understand?

“Raoul,” I say gently “I have pledged to marry another. I love someone else. Please, don’t do this. Take me back. Madame will be looking for me.” He drops my hands as if they’ve burned him and begins to rant. “NO!” he cries out. “We will marry! I have it all arranged! We will get away from all this, and you will love me!” I shrink back into the cushions, afraid of the transformation he’s undergone. I begin to cry out in my heart for Erik. He’s never failed me before, and I have faith that he won’t fail me now. 

I realize that I must do something to slow the carriage. If I can stall, Erik and the Girys will find that I’m missing, and will come looking for me. Perhaps they will understand that Raoul took me away. I straighten my shoulders and look at Raoul. He’s watching me very closely. If I ever had any talent as a performer, dear God please let it be shown now. I smile quickly and ask lightly “Will I have a bouquet? You know it would be awful if I didn’t have a bouquet. A bride must have flowers!” Raoul’s face brightens, and my heart breaks a little at seeing the light shine in his eyes. He believes me, and it pains me. He calls out of the window for the driver to find a shop to buy flowers for his bride. The driver slows so he may search windows. I only hope that it will delay us enough. I have no idea where Raoul plan for us to go to be married. Certainly not his family’s home. Madame had made special arrangements for Erik and me to be married by a priest at such short notice. But then I remember Raoul’s family name, and I think bitterly that if anyone could arrange a marriage quickly, it would be a de Chagny.

We come to a stop and Raoul’s face lights up as he looks out. “There, darling, the florist’s shop! Let’s go and buy you the biggest bouquet they can manage!” I think quickly and say shyly “Raoul, I can’t go in like this! Will you go? It would be so sweet if you picked it out for me. I can carry your flowers close to my heart.” I cringe inwardly at my words, but they seem to convince him. He bounds out of the carriage, almost stumbling in his haste. I wait cautiously, watching as he walks inside. I wait almost half a minute, and then slip out the opposite side of the carriage. I do so swiftly and quietly, slinking away till I feel far enough from the shop and carriage to break out in a run without attracting the driver’s attention.

I pick up my skirts and run the direction we came from. I can only hope that I can either make it back to the Opera House before Raoul exits the shop, or that Erik and Madame will be coming this way to rescue me, and I can find myself safely in Erik’s arms again. I’m not sure how far I’ve run before I hear my name called out. I look up and see Madame with a strange yet familiar man. As Madame rushes toward me, the man reaches me first and pulls me into his embrace. Before I can react to this, he whispers “Darling Christine, It’s me. It’s your Erik. I’ve got you now, everything’s alright.” I look at him, shocked to see this face. He smiles down at me, and that smile I recognize. I burst into tears, clutching Erik as I begin shaking. Madame quickly ushers us to a sheltered alley, away from prying eyes. I manage to sob out that Raoul came and took me away. I whisper “I think he’s gone mad. The way he was talking, the look in his eyes… He’s mad, crazy.” Erik kisses my forehead with an indulgent smirk and remarks “Well, darling, you do have that affect on men.” His comment does what he intended: I gasp and smack him with mock irritation. He chuckles and kisses me again. Madame smiles at this interlude before saying firmly “Come, we can still get to the priest. If we hurry, we can get you two married before the Vicomte finds you.” I look up at Erik and smile, my tears drying as I say “Yes, please let’s hurry!” Erik kisses my hand and whispers “Darling, I promise you that you will be my wife. And I promise I will always come for you.” He pulls me close and conceals me somewhat with his cape. Madame pulls her collar around her face, and we make our way through the darkened alleys to the priest who awaits us.


	10. Chapter 10

As we make our way through the alleys, trusting Madame’s lead, I whisper to Erik “Darling, where is your mask? I didn’t even recognize you before!” He chuckles, and I sense a sort of triumph in the sound. “Well my dear, I’ve been working on this for some time. I had hoped that this would make it easier for you to love me, if I looked like any other man. I thought you would prefer a man who could take you walking and out to church on Sundays. And I decided that tonight was the perfect night to begin.” We pause a moment as Madame looks around quickly to get her bearings. I take advantage of the pause to reach and stroke Erik’s jaw, which remains uncovered by the mask. I do this purposely. I want to feel him. I finally find the words to convey my feelings, and I murmur lovingly “As long as you promise me that you will let me see the real you, and not always hide behind this mask.” His eyes widen, and I see surprise shining in them. I kiss him lightly and whisper “I love you Erik.” I pull away and realize that Madame has been waiting on us to finish before we move ahead. She smiles kindly and says “We are almost there. Just a few more minutes.”

True to her word, only minutes later we are inside a small chapel, lit with a few wavering candles. Madame whispers to us “I thought this place ideal. There’s seldom many here, but it’s always open to the lost and needy.” I realize that those words will no longer apply to Erik, and he squeezes my hand as if he too understands this. Madame leads us to a small alcove where the priest sits, attempting to avoid nodding off to sleep. She taps his shoulder and he gives a small jump in his seat. He adjusts his glasses and smiles at us as if we have brought him a special gift. “Ah, so these are the ones who are to be married tonight!” he exclaims happily. He looks at us, how we are all still out of breath from our rush through the city streets and he rises and gestures to some seats. “Please, please, my children, take a seat, relax a moment and catch your breath. Would any of you care for a small glass of wine?” Erik looks baffled by this elderly man and his effusive personality. I giggle a bit, enjoying Erik’s first church experience. Madame raises an eyebrow at the priest’s offer and he waves a hand at her. “I keep a bottle for sickness, Madame, that is all. This young couple looks as if they are out of breath and a little jittery. I believe they would benefit from a small sip before we begin.” He winks teasingly at me, making me laugh again. I like this priest, and I’m glad such a friendly man will be marrying Erik and me.

After he feels we are sufficiently settled down, Father DuPont asks if he may speak with Erik privately for a moment. Erik looks at me with a mixture of fear and chagrin, but I smile reassuringly and nod. Even though I’ve just met DuPont, I can’t help but trust him. The men walk a few feet away, and I watch as they speak in hushed tones. Madame Giry takes my hand and asks “My dear girl, how are you? Did the Vicomte harm you at all?” I shake my head quickly and say “No, he didn’t hurt me. But I fear for him. I truly believe his mind is gone. And I think he had been drinking too. I could smell liquor on him. Maybe that’s why he thought he could take me. I don’t understand. But I’m here now with Erik, and I just wish to marry him and live our lives together.” She pats my hand kindly. “And marry him you shall. I’m happy for you, my girl.” 

Erik and Father DuPont return, and I see a light in Erik’s eye that has never been there before. He seems so calm and happy, so unlike his demeanor when we first entered the church. Father DuPont takes both of us by the hand and leads us into the privacy of his alcove, where he picks up his Bible and says “Now, let us begin.”

Father DuPont keeps the ceremony brief. Madame must have arranged that too. As we say our vows to each other, a tear slips down my cheek when I see Erik’s happiness. He stammers over the words, and I nod at him encouragingly. Erik takes a deep breath, steadies himself, and then continues, more sure of himself now. I repeat the timeless words, smiling at Erik the entire time. Then the priest declares us man and wife, blesses us, and with a grin that seems almost wicked and teasing says delightedly “You may kiss your bride!” At this, Erik’s eyes gleam brightly, and he slides his arms around my waist and kisses me. I briefly hope that he remembers we are still in a house of God and that he doesn’t over do it, but I’m soon lost in the feel of his lips upon mine. He pulls away, regret clear on his face. I smile at him, knowing that the regret comes from the kiss ending. He winks rakishly at me and my smile grows. Erik turns and grasps the priest’s hand, thanking him heartily. I hear Father DuPont whisper “You may come visit with me anytime you wish, son” and Erik seems to blink back a few tears of happiness at those words. I can’t help myself; I move closer and hug that dear old man, whispering “Thank you Father”. He hugs me back before looking me in the eye and saying “May the Lord bless you both, you beautiful children of God.” His words touch Erik, and he comes and hugs him briefly as well.

As we walk out of the church, Madame Giry turns and hugs us each before stating that she will leave us. It strikes me that we are man and wife now. This dream has actually come true. I wonder if we are returning to Erik’s home under the Opera, but he surprises me yet again. He stops a brougham for hire and speaks to the driver. He turns to me and smiles broadly as he speaks. “My darling wife, the carriage waits to take us to our new home!” He helps me in and sits next to me, lavishing kisses on my hand. I ask curiously “Our new home? Where?” Erik smiles mysteriously and says “Ah, it’s a surprise, my dear. We will be there soon, love.” Then he pulled me close and as he wrapped an arm around my waist he whispered “Meanwhile, I must give my compliments to the bride. You look beautiful, so beautiful. And now you are mine.” I shiver as the full meaning of his words descends. Yes, very soon, he will have me completely.


	11. Chapter 11

The brougham travels on, picking up speed. I glance out of the window and see that we are now at the outskirts of Paris, traveling on toward the countryside. Erik interrupts my observations with his nervous question. “Darling, I know you said previously that you were alright, but I must know. Did the Vicomte harm you in any way? Did he… try to… anything?” It takes me a moment to understand what Erik is asking me, but once realization comes I blush and frown. This is the closest we have come to discussing anything remotely… intimate, but it’s tainted by the fact that he’s referring to the possibility of me being molested somehow by Raoul. This is not the sort of discussion I would wish to have on my wedding night with my husband. I mentally curse Raoul and his actions as I reply “No, Erik, he didn’t harm or molest me in any way. I know I said I think he was drunk, but I do not believe he was drunk enough to try that. Only enough to give him courage to try and make me marry him. That was his focus, to marry me.” I take Erik’s hand in mine and look him boldly into his concerned eyes. “I’m just glad that none of his plans worked. I’m yours, yours completely, and I always will be.”

He sighs with relief, and his shoulders drop. I decide we need to change the subject and I ask with a cheerful tone “Now, dear, where are we going? Where is our home?” Erik smiles, and I’m happy to see him going along with the happier subject. “You will love it, darling Christine. It’s rather secluded, and very peaceful. I bought it long ago, but only recently did I start to make it a real home.” His eyes are clearly showing what he’s thinking. I realize with another blush that he means he started to make it a home for me, for us. He takes my hand and kisses it gently before continuing “I hope you don’t mind that it’s not in Paris, but in the country.” I grin at him and reply “Erik, I grew up in a small home more in the country than in a city. I loved that little home, and I know I shall love our new home.” This seems to calm his nerves and he wraps his arm gently around my waist and kisses the top of my head. I snuggle down into his embrace, hoping that my husband doesn’t sense exactly how nervous I am.

Madame has at various times taken on the responsibility of instructing the girls in her care about womanly matters. And this afternoon, while Meg was out of the room, she again took the opportunity to discuss what happens between married couples. She was a little more open about this, and I know it was because she was trying to prepare me for tonight. But I can’t help feeling scared and nervous. I love Erik dearly, and my heart beats harder with every kiss, my skin heats with his touch. But what is to happen tonight is an entirely different story. Every nerve in my body is on alert, and I cannot decide if I feel more trepidation or excitement. 

Finally we stop, and Erik turns to me with excitement plain in his eyes. “Christine, will you wait here for just a moment? I want to make sure this is perfect.” I laugh happily, enjoying this side of his personality. “Yes, I’ll wait; shall I cover my eyes as well?” He chuckles and shakes his head. “No, my dear, I want you to see home the moment you step out. Just wait here.” He almost bounces out, and I giggle at this playful and excited man. I faintly hear Erik’s voice speaking to someone, and then the door opens and Erik leans in and says “Now, my dear, step out and see your new home.” He takes my hand and helps me out. The moonlight offers so much light that I can clearly see the little house. My eyes fill with soft tears. It’s perfect, such a cozy little place. I see candles lit and what is obviously a roaring fire set. I turn to Erik, pride showing in his triumphant gaze. I hug him, kissing his cheek, or the mask rather, and I whisper “It’s wonderful, my love. It’s amazing. Thank you.” I feel a small shiver run through him, but before I can ask him the reason he turns me and says proudly “Daroga, I wish to introduce you to my wife, Christine.” This must be the other person Erik was speaking with. I hold out my hand as the man steps closer. He grasps my hand and kisses it gently before introducing himself as Nadir Kahn. Then he smiles knowingly and says “Erik has been so kind as to arrange for me to take this conveyance back into the city. I will leave you now. It’s been a pleasure, Madame.” Then he quickly enters the brougham, waving as it pulls away.

Before I can ask Erik who exactly that man is, he scoops me up into his arms and takes me inside. I look around as he sets me down just over the threshold. I already love this house. The front room is rather roomy, with one corner obviously meant for music. There’s a piano and a violin there, with stacks of music nearby. In front of the fireplace there are two chairs and a table, with bookshelves close at hand. Erik takes my hand and gently says “Come, my darling, let me show you the rest of the house.”

He leads me through slowly, showing me the kitchen. I laughingly tell him that he will have to be patient with me as I try to revive my cooking skills. He nuzzles my neck and murmurs “I will gladly suffer through all home cooked meals. It’s been too long since I’ve had any but my own sad attempts.” Then we make our way upstairs. There are two bedrooms, and he takes me to the larger one, with a washroom attached. He whispers “Madame Giry arranged that your belongings will arrive here tomorrow.” I smile absently, my mind far from thoughts of possessions. I’m studying this room. It’s beautiful and simple. I think suddenly of what my life and home would have been like had I married Raoul. None of it would have brought me the pleasure that this home does. I turn and smile at Erik, noticing the look in his eyes. He seems nervous, and I take his hands and say happily “Darling, this is wonderful. I love it. This will be such a wonderful home for us.” His eyes light up and he kisses me gently. 

He kisses me gently. These aren’t the kisses like he gave me when I first told him that I love him. This isn’t even like the kiss he gave me at our wedding just tonight. These are nervous, shy kisses. It strikes me that Erik is possibly more nervous about tonight than I am. He starts to speak and his words confirm my sudden understanding. “Dear, there are some… clothes… here for you to change into. I will say goodnight now. You’ve had a rather trying night. You need your rest now.” With that he kisses me on my forehead and leaves, closing the door behind him.

I stand in the middle of the room, shocked. He left me in here alone. And it doesn’t sound like he plans to return. I sit on the bed, watching the wavering candles for a few moments. Poor Erik. I know he thinks that this is what I wish. But I wish to be his wife in all respects. Even if I am scared, I want to be his completely. I rise, taking off my cloak and laying it over the chair in front of the small vanity table that Erik must have chosen with such care. I turn toward the bureau, opening drawers searching for a nightgown. Knowing Erik, he has several for me. He always plans ahead. I smile when I find one buried under several long and conventional gowns and pull it out, studying it in the soft candlelight. This must be one that he purchased not thinking I would ever consent to wear it. It’s shorter than a regular night gown, and rather filmy. I smile, a plan beginning to form.

I quietly step out of the room, making my way back down the stairs. I peek into the sitting room and see Erik, sitting before the fire. He has his mask off and is studying it. Then he sets it down upon the table and rests his forehead in his hands. I can hear him speaking softly to himself. “Oh, Christine… will you ever truly be my wife? How can I touch you… be worthy of you?” I wipe away the tears that trail down my cheek at his words. He’s even more afraid than I am. 

I step into the room and speak his name. I must have startled him, for he jumps up and turns toward me. His eyes widen as he sees me standing there in this gown. I smile at him hopefully and whisper “Do you think this fits me well?” I have to choke back laughter as he stutters and stammers. He steps closer and trails his fingers down my bare arm. He manages to speak and says “You are beautiful, my angel.” I reach up and caress his face. I see the alarm that appears in his eyes as he remembers that he’s without his mask. I grab his hand before he can back away. I keep my hand on his face and a smile upon my face. I lean forward and kiss him with love and a hint of passion. Then I look at him and say “Come to bed, husband.” He starts to move away, fear and pain in his eyes. I pull him closer, wrapping his arm around my waist. He sucks in a harsh breath and I repeat with more insistence and desire “Come to bed, my love.” This time it is Erik who initiates the kiss. He pulls back and whispers hoarsely “Are you sure, darling?” I nod my head firmly, my smile growing. He scoops me up into his arms, much like he did when bringing me into our home, and carries me up the stairs. 

He takes me into the bedroom and lays me down upon the bed, kissing me. I begin untying his cravat while he makes quick work of his waistcoat and kicks off his shoes. I watch the candlelight dancing as he removes his shirt. He pauses for a moment, uncertainty rising in his eyes again. So I scoot closer and slide my fingers across his chest. I feel a shiver course through him, and he takes my hand, bringing it up to his lips and kissing each finger. Then a gleam appears in his eyes as he begins unlacing the ribbons that keep my nightgown closed. I watch each movement of his long fingers as they slowly reveal me to him. I hear his shaky breaths stop when my shoulders shift, causing the gown to slide down. I smile at him and nod, urging him to continue. 

Erik studies me, his fingers leaving an icy yet burning trail over my skin wherever he touches. When he gently grazes one finger across my breast I gasp, the sensation arousing me in a terrifying yet exhilarating way. He pauses, looking into my eyes questioning whether I wish him to continue. I nod my head and smile again, whispering a simple “yes” to encourage him. He grins suddenly and brushes his fingers on the same spot, watching me writhe with pleasure. He starts kissing my neck softly, but with little nibbles mixed in. I moan softly, closing my eyes and whispering his name, pleading for more of this exquisite torture. He pauses, and pulls away slightly. I open my eyes, confused. He leans close and confesses shyly “I really never thought this would happen. I… I’m learning too.” He looks down shyly, and I understand what he his saying. He’s been denied so much in life, including the pleasures and joys of love. I kiss his forehead and tell him “Then how wonderful that we may learn together.” 

Those were just the right words to say. He smiles at me and immediately starts kissing my neck again and touching me, familiarizing himself with my skin. I feel him smile into my neck every time I moan or gasp, these sounds urging him on. I bring my arms up around his neck, playing with the soft hair. Then a playful urge strikes me and I turn my head slightly and nibble his ear. The moan that echoes from him causes that fluttery feeling in my stomach to knot suddenly, desire coursing through my veins. I try it again, and Erik makes that same noise. He moves away from my neck and huskily speaks “You are a vixen, my darling. May I…” he gestures to his pants and I swallow and nod wordlessly. 

He removes his pants and undergarments quickly, and my eyes widen. I didn’t mean to look at his uncovered form just yet, but I couldn’t help it. He is large and, judging by the information I’m hazily remembering from Madame’s discussion, he is very ready. He brings himself back to hover over me, and begins kissing me again. He tells me gently “Don’t worry, my pet. We’re learning together, remember?” His gentle touches relax me again, and I sigh in agreement. Then I feel his fingers moving down toward where I’m hot, the place that seems to be waiting for his touch. His long musician’s fingers begin touching me there, toying with me. It feels like lightning is coursing through me with every touch. I moan loudly, embarrassing myself. But the sound only seems to excite Erik, for he groans and starts moving his fingers faster and with a bit more urgency. 

He moves and positions himself between my legs. I inhale nervously, and I notice he does the same. He looks at me, studying my face as he begins to slide himself into me. My mouth falls open at the sensation of him filling me. I can tell he’s trying to go slowly, whether to help me adjust or for our mutual pleasure I can’t quite decide. There’s a brief moment of pain as he fills me completely, but it’s overshadowed by jolts of pleasure. I move slightly, trying to get used to this, and he moans. I stop and my eyes fly to his face. Erik looks down at me and gasps out “You feel… like heaven…” and he starts moving softly, causing stronger sensations. I manage to moan out a single “yes”, encouraging him. But words don’t come easily in a moment like this, and all I can do is wrap my arms around him, bringing him closer to my body. His weight upon me seems to intensify every feeling, and I moan out his name. This must be what he was waiting for. He begins to move faster, thrusting himself into me. I gasp and moan, trying to be able to let him know that this is what I want. Suddenly the jolts of electricity that are flying through my system all band together into one brilliant flash and I call out “ERIK!” He gasps and with two final thrusts I feel him reach his climax. 

Erik lays his head upon me, both of us gasping for air. I smile to myself as I think that only minutes ago, we were both scared and unsure of this. Now I know the feeling of physically joining with this man that I love so much. He looks at me, a hopeful question in his eyes. I smile and kiss him. Now I see no hurt in his eyes, no sadness, only love and joy, only completion. And I know that he sees the same in mine.


End file.
